


Thorn and Willow

by the_throwaway_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Confessions, Confused Remus Lupin, Confused Severus Snape, Dark Magic, Denial of Feelings, Drowning, Drunken Kissing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Gay Remus Lupin, Gay Severus Snape, Hurt Remus Lupin, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Remus Lupin is So Done, Second War with Voldemort, Sectumsempra (Harry Potter), Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus Snape is Bad at Feelings, Severus Snape-centric, Torture, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_throwaway_account/pseuds/the_throwaway_account
Summary: Snupin one-shot! During Round 2 against Voldemort, Severus and Remus slowly become closer, but after crossing the line of physicality, Snape asserts they made a mistake. A feeling of dread builds when Remus misses an Order meeting soon after. How will Severus find him? What will he say?Memories struck him like body blows— eyes laughing in the light of a fireplace, the taste of spiced rum on a mouth once so warm and eager.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Thorn and Willow

On an evening in late March 1996, a routine meeting of the Order of the Phoenix had recently concluded. While many members lingered to chat in small groups, some even settling in for tea, Severus Snape moved to make a quick escape. 

Naturally, he did not miss Lupin follow close behind him like a patchwork shadow.

“Severus, you might want to slow down a bit,” he said. “You almost look like you’re running away from me.”

The smile in his voice was as infuriating as the words he spoke. 

Snape stopped and turned to face the werewolf. 

“I don’t have an interest in _or_ the patience for mindless small talk, Lupin.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, frowning subtly.

“What about some regular talk, then? Join me in my study, won’t you?” he offered.

His brown eyes like tree trunks maddened Snape as he struggled to read through their layers. In this moment there was an edge underneath the usual warmth, something like a dare. Behind his eyes a flat statement:

_If you decline, you will only prove that you were running away._

In response to such a challenge, Snape could only nod, and without further words he followed Remus up the creaking staircase to a spare room where a spacious office had been allotted to him. 

This room at Grimmauld Place allowed Lupin to more easily conduct his research for the Order on various defensive and Dark magical theory. 

Snape felt he himself would quite enjoy exploring more obscure strategies to aid in the war, if only his spy work would allow him the time and energy.

Upon inquiring with Dumbledore, he’d learned that Remus had taken on this additional angle of work with no outside prompting, and Snape found his initiative quite admirable. 

As his eyes roved over the stacks of paper and books in Lupin’s small library, he very nearly told him so, but the words dissolved between his lips. 

He turned to see Remus sat in an ancient, ornate armchair behind an only moderately messy desk.

“You’re welcome to sit, of course,” he said, nodding to the adjacent seat, though both men knew the invitation would certainly go untaken.

“How has your research been going?” Snape said in response.

“Oh, it’s a bit slow-going, but that’s to be expected. I’ve only recently gotten a handle on the way things are organized in that dreadful library.”

Snape hummed his assent, finally turning to face Lupin fully.

“I did find a misplaced scroll in the library written in a kind of code or short-hand I don’t recognize,” Remus went on. 

“Could you decipher any of it?” Snape said.

“Just a bit. It seems to be addressing a rather intensive Transfiguration spell. I think with a little digging I’ll be able to clarify it.”

A pause sat between the two men, starting comfortably but gradually becoming heavier.

Remus sighed shortly.

“Look, Severus, I’ll be blunt. I think it’s time we talked about this new energy between us. We’re grown men and yet we’ve been dancing around this situation far too long.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“There’s no situation, Lupin,” he said icily.

Remus stood, a whisper of the wolf crawling behind his eyes.

“Then what was last Sunday about?” He said.

Severus sighed, crossing his arms.

“A mistake, clearly. We’re older now, lonely. Times are tough, and we’d been drinking. Surely you possess enough sense to see how all that might lead to such an unfortunate circumstance.”

Remus nodded, working his jaw a bit. His eyes fell to his desk a moment.

“Unfortunate,” he said lowly.

He tapped his finger on the dark wood a few times before meeting Snape’s eyes again. After a brief stalemate, his shoulders fell.

“I know you must think it foolish, even dangerous, that such a thing could happen between us in war time,” he said, running a scarred hand down his face.

“But haven’t we already lost if we allow this darkness to smother a chance at… at some semblance of peace, in this time so drowned in fear?”

Snape appeared disgusted, slowly drawing himself up to his full height.

“You’re delusional, wolf,” he said.

He made a swift exit, leaving Lupin to sit back at his desk, cursing himself.

* * *

After their discussion, the two men doubled up on their avoidance of each other, rebuilding the distance between them that had been slowly decreasing for weeks.

About a week into April, Lupin missed an Order meeting. A prickle of foreboding crawled up Severus’ neck when he saw the empty seat beside Minerva he usually occupied. The moon had been just two days prior, but even in a poor state the stubborn Gryffindor would normally show up. Snape knew his potion would not have been faulty, but there had been an eclipse, so perhaps this made the transformation especially taxing.

* * *

Just that next evening, a short while after Snape returned to his quarters after dinner, a flash of fire raked over his Dark Mark. He conjured his Patronus to inform Dumbledore of the call, noting before the animal even fully emerged from his wand, that something wasn’t right. The shape appeared bulkier, twisting upon appearance in a way his doe never had.

Long and tall and stunning, a timber wolf leapt forward, dashing through the nearest wall to make a straight shot to the Headmaster.

Severus’ chest tightened and anger ached behind his eyes, even as a brief sigh of relief escaped him. For a moment his mind felt fuzzy, but he refocused quickly. This was no time for soul-searching. He put his confusion into a compartment in his mind and drew up the Occlusion barriers around it, together with all the other sensitive information within him.

* * *

After the meeting, as the Dark Lord’s followers silently filed out of the grand, though dimly lit hall, Voldemort’s voice sounded in Snape’s ear despite the distance between them.

“Fall back, Severus,” he said.  
  
Even though he could think of no misstep he had taken since the last meeting, a jolt of fear shook Snape’s heart. He stopped walking, quickly assessing and re-confirming the Occlusion of his mind. He came slowly before his false leader, bowing his head.

“My Lord?” he said.

“I have news, Severus,” Voldemort said, drawing out his name like Parseltongue in his horrible, whispery voice. “I think you’ll be glad to hear, we finally have a hold on Dumbledore’s loyal beast and your old schoolmate, Remus Lupin.”

Snape’s heart seemed to lurch forward in his chest, painfully pressing against his ribcage.

“As you know, Veritaserum is ineffective on such creatures, so Macnair is with him now, but I’m giving you permission to take over the questioning.”

Severus bowed more deeply.

“Thank you, my Lord. I look forward to it.”

“I thought you would,” Voldemort said. “Now go. He’s in the southmost cell.”

* * *

Summoning the strength of his wolf, Lupin easily pulled his way up the chain he’d been hung on by his wrists, although his legs up to his knees remained submerged in the chilled water below. He locked eyes with Macnair, who wore a cruel, disgusting grin.

As so often happens to one becoming more certain of their death, Remus felt his old religion come through to him again.

“There will be a special place in hell for you,” he said.

Macnair laughed.

“And what god would put me there? One that loves _you_? What kind of god would care for such a monster? You are filth. You are nothing.”

Lupin’s sore and numbing hands faltered a bit on the chain, but did not slip.

“Macnair, you’re blind,” he said. “You are the only sub-human one here.”

A flash of anger flew across the Deatheater’s face, and then a flash from his wand shattered Lupin’s lifeline.

Remus fought against the weight of the chains with such fury that he managed one more breath before Macnair summoned a small anchor to pull him under.

Lupin kicked and pulled wildly without gaining as much as a centimeter. The manacles dug into his wrists, causing blood to pull away like smoke. 

As his lungs screamed and muscles weakened, he thought of Severus— how easily he had denied his feelings— how he could very well be on this same base where he was about to die.

So close and so distant, as was their way, but now he’d be even further away, and for always. He had tried, at least. He had hoped, once.

* * *

Lupin’s struggling ceased mere seconds before Snape stormed into the chamber. Only years of practiced command over his emotions allowed him to channel his fear into anger at the sight of Remus hunched and still in the tank of water.

“Macnair, you fool, we can’t interrogate a corpse!” he roared, immediately shattering the chains and levitating Lupin from the water to lay on the stone floor.

“Get out of here. I’ll handle this.” he commanded, summoning all the menacing authority he’d worked so hard to build up as one of the Dark Lord’s top agents.

Macnair jolted at the realization of his error, but forced ease into his voice as he answered.

“Sure, sure. Have your fun,” he said, and left.

* * *

Snape ran, tearing the cell door open. He fell to his knees, moving to position Remus more properly. His darkened hair further contrasted his deathly pallor. His dress shirt clung to his slim frame.

Severus pumped his comrade’s chest, mentally demanding that he come back to consciousness.

“Don’t quit on me now, wolf. You’re not as weak as this,” he thought.

As mechanical as Snape’s movements were, as stony as his face remained, something inside him crumbled as he locked his mouth around Lupin’s blue lips. Memories struck him like body blows— eyes laughing in the light of a fireplace, the taste of spiced rum on a mouth once so warm and eager.

As Remus remained unresponsive and Snape pumped his chest again, the demanding tone of his thoughts fell away.

“Please come back,” he thought. “Please.”

Finally, Lupin stirred. Water sputtered from his mouth, and Snape swiftly turned him unto his side so he could expel it. Doing so exposed his back, where huge bruises and lesions were visible under the tatters of his shirt. Snape healed the gashes at once. Lupin trembled violently as he coughed, and Snape performed a drying and warming charm on his clothes.

After a few long moments, Remus slowly turned to lay on his back, a small, wordless sound spilling from his lips. Severus was nearly overcome by the urge to rest his hand against his cheek.

“Severus,” Remus said roughly, blinking blearily at the ceiling.

“Yes,” he said lowly. “I have a reviving potion with me.”

Lupin eased himself up, leaning heavily on his arm locked stiffly behind him.

He downed the potion, shaking himself a bit as the light came on behind his eyes. He handed Snape the potion bottle, then grasped his upper arm. Without thought, Snape’s hand covered his, squeezing.

“Thank you,” Remus said. “I really… thank you.”

Severus nodded. Their eyes lingered together another moment before they both released their hands.  
  
Snape stood, vanishing the tank of water and exiting the cell. He crossed his arms as he faced Lupin again.  
  
“Plans are in motion with the Order to shut down this base,” he began. “but there is no set time frame as of yet.”  
  
Remus nodded, sitting up further.  
  
“I’m afraid there’s no time left for rest,” Snape went on. “They expect me to be questioning you. I can’t leave you in such a stable state.”  
  
Remus looked down at the red and bruising marks around his wrists.  
  
“I understand,” he said.  
  
He met Snape’s eyes.  
  
“What do you plan to do?” He asked in a blank voice.

A pause sat between them a moment. Severus had been thinking about this even as he had rushed to Lupin’s cell. He needed something quick, something showy.  
  
“Sectumsempra,” he said. “I believe your healing abilities will prevent the full severity of its effects.”  
  
Lupin swallowed, gaze falling once again to his hands.  
  
“Right,” he said.

He took in a deep breath, raising his eyes again.  
  
“Okay,” he said, more firmly.  
  
He carefully stood, running a hand over his hair.  
  
“I trust you won’t be holding back?” he said, suddenly quite businesslike considering the circumstances. Severus could not help but feel impressed at the Gryffindor’s resilience.  
  
“I won’t,” he confirmed.  
  
“Good. Your cover is worth more than my life."  
  
The ease of Lupin’s words brought a heat wave of anger rushing down Snape’s back— the kind made sour with sadness.  
  
“I’m not going to kill you,” he said.  
  
“I know you’re not, now. But should it come to that—“  
  
“It won’t,” he cut in with his most dangerous voice.  
  
Lupin held his gaze for a long moment, then looked away, holding his arms open a bit.  
  
“How do you want me?” He said.  
  
Snape’s heart had by now started racing in earnest, quickly realizing this was going to be harder than he first imagined.  
  
“Stand up against the wall, otherwise you’ll be thrown against it,” he said coolly.  
  
"Of course," Remus said dryly.  
  
He rolled his shoulders and shook his arms out a bit before pressing himself against the jagged wall.  
  
Lupin closed his eyes, making fists of his hands.  
  
“I trust you,” he said.

These few words felt like a bludgeoning in Snape’s gut. The steady, matter-of-fact tone sought to bless him, but it only burned.

* * *

The scars on Remus’ relaxed face seemed to leap out at Snape as he imagined the huge X-shaped mark he was about to bestow on the werewolf’s chest, on top of so many others. Hadn’t the man been through enough?  
  
“On three,” Severus said, then performed the spell on two.  
  
Lupin cried out, head snapping back against the wall. His entire front was bloodied instantly. Mouth and eyes open wide, he turned toward the wall, leveraging his weight against it.  
  
His legs folded, and Severus just had time to slow his fall.  
  
Remus fought his dizziness valiantly and got himself laying on the ground as gently as he could. He remained on his side and crossed his arms over his chest, shuddering through halting breaths.  
  
Snape found himself forgetting to breathe himself. He gripped the bars of the cell desperately.

“Lupin,” he said.

Remus coughed painfully, a low moan escaping him.  
  
“Remus, please,” Severus tried again.  
  
Lupin slowly opened his eyes, dark and cold against his pallid skin.  
  
“So this is what it takes… for you to use my given name,” he said.  
  
Snape felt icy water in his gut— the sharp, familiar feeling of self-hatred.  
  
“I’m sorry, for all of this," he said.  
  
“I know,” Remus answered, closing his eyes.  
  
“It’s quite pathetic, how rarely we're alone,” he added softly.

“It is, but listen to me,” Snape said sharply, feeling a rush of heat rise to his face.

“That Sunday, it wasn’t a mistake.”

Lupin opened his eyes, and Severus saw him working hard to focus.

“I don’t…” he began, shaking his head. “What is this?”

“It’s the truth. It wasn’t a mistake, and I’m getting you out of here, soon.”

“Oh,” Remus sighed, eyes softening. “I’m glad.”

A feather-light but very real smile fell across his face. His body relaxed further against the stone ground, one red hand falling in Snape’s direction.

“Please just, be careful,” he said, eyes slipping closed.

* * *

After confirming that Lupin’s vitals were not worsening, Severus stood frozen for a long moment, resting his forehead on the cold bars of the cell.

His hands shook and his mind raced. He had no solid ground. He didn’t know what he was doing— a rare feeling, and a frightening one.

Finally he turned to leave, looking for all the world like a stoic soldier.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a song called Thistle and Weeds by Mumford & Sons, an awesome band with heartfelt lyrics that have inspired my writing multiple times!
> 
> I was actually almost done with this piece when I suddenly decided to have Snape speak up about his feelings, and I'm SO glad I made the change! I like giving him more credit, and of course sweet Moony deserved some ray of light in his horrible situation! 
> 
> Anyway, I really appreciate you taking the time to check out this work. I have another Snupin fic called Drifting Satellite if you're curious. Either way I hope you enjoyed, and happy reading! ✨


End file.
